O Captain, My Captain
by leogrl19
Summary: A collection of AshShep drabbles because this pairing is awesome and needs FAR more coverage then what I've seen so far. Not in any specific order, but all pretty much dealing with the different stages in their romance. Shepard:War Hero/Spacer/Para CH. 2!
1. Dangerous

Hey, there Mass Effect lovers! It has certainly been a while, but I finally got up the gumption (fun word) to write a series of short drabbles on what else: my favorite ME couple! Though I really shouldn't since I already have A LOT of other stories that need to be updated...But then I got the ol 360 cranking again and well, I couldn't help myself! They're such a cute couple and I'm just in love with Bioware romances. Just warning, I wouldn't expect super fast updates on this, guys: I write when the inspiration strikes me...Oh, and having time is a pretty high factor too.

But, yeah; pretty much just a collection of AshShep moments either in-game or post because I think we need more love for this couple - don't you agree?

Okay...Haven't done this in a long time; hope I still got it (clears throat):

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything of this great, wonderful, (input nice adjective here) game - it all goes to Bioware! Yay, Bioware!

Kay, R&R and enjoy!

* * *

"Dangerous…" Commander Elias Shepard trailed softly, his fingertips rummaging through the soft, and very rarely unrestrained, ebony locks of a certain Gunnery Chief's hair, the latter, in his lap, smiling in a manner that conveyed obvious amusement.

The two marines had once again found themselves in his private quarters on the Normandy, though this time, both were shamelessly naked in his bed, sheets tossed haphazardly around their sweaty forms as they reveled in the afterglow of their previous lovemaking session.

Still sporting that wicked smile she knew perfectly well drove him mad (the perfect combination of confidence and knowing), Chief Ashley Williams lazily opened an eye to stare up at him. "_Hmm_…?" Though just a simple sound, it had effectively conveyed a tone of innocence.

"Oh – _bullshit_." Shepard responded back skeptically, "You heard what I said."

Poking her lip out in mock disappointment from his lack of faith in her lie, the woman shifted the position of her head until her face was fully exposed to his eyes.

"Now, why would I be dangerous, Shepard?" She posed back as if a teacher with an imaginative child, her mischievous smirk still strong. "Out of all the big, bad things in this galaxy trying to get you, I would think I'm the least of your worries."

"Well, for one, all the other "big, bad things" haven't seduced me." He replied readily, grinning when he saw the "you've got a point" expression appear on her face, her expression growing.

"So…you _do_ admit that I was the one who seduced you?"

"Sure. I'm a sucker for a girl with a take no prisoners attitude who can still find time to recite me poetry." The commander told her with an indifferent shrug. "And when the Alliance brings us in for breaking regs, I'll let you tell them all about how you "fraternized" me – every juicy detail; if anything, it's sure to be a hit with Udina."

The mere thought of seeing that annoying politician's face turning beet red either from embarrassment or rage made her chuckle. "That's the way, Skipper!"

Elias smiled at the moniker she gave him, the one only he allowed her to use. "I remember the first time you called me that…I should have run when I had the chance…" He trailed softly, his fingers now carefully teasing the curve of her back, "You're in a league all your own, Ash. Being with you…its too intense, too consuming – like falling deeper and deeper into something you can't control." Dusky fingers paused on her olive skin. "I think we both know it's not as simple as what we both thought it would be…It may have started that way, but now it's something far more dangerous – _you're_ dangerous."

Meeting his gaze – staring into eyes – Ashley witnessed the open emotion in those amber orbs that were usually so furtive, her once playful expression melting away from his serious tone as she lifted a hand to stroke the smooth, chocolate skin of his cheek. "Huh…And here I thought I was only keeping up with you."

There it was, proven again in rapid succession: the shock; the burning; the _desire._ So sudden; so crushing; so **_absolute_**.

It never ceased to amaze the usually unflappable commander how cleanly she could lead him straight into a shocked silence. The soldier in his lap was an interesting enigma, indeed: never giving too much information on what went on inside that head of hers, and remotely less when it came to her feelings, but somehow always providing what he hoped to hear – even when he had no idea he had wanted to hear it.

She was right: this Williams' woman did things when she was ready; not before, and not after – and what incredible timing she had.

Regaining his ability to speak despite the paralyzing effects of the unyielding gaze, Elias moved into her warm touch. "How do you do that?" Seeing one of her slender brows rise with genuine inquiry, he shook his head after a moment. "It's nothing; forget it."

Her forehead rutted slightly as her tender caress turned into pushing his face away. "You tease."

"Sexy, isn't it?"

Ashley rolled her eyes, ignoring, for now, the fact that he was right; in all truth, most everything the man did was. "Come on – spit it out."

"And risk being laughed at by Ms. Cynicism?" He scoffed. "Screw that."

"Then I won't." The Chief was rewarded with a look of complete disbelief before she could even finish. "I _promise_ I won't laugh."

His expression brightened. "_Oh_, well now I _completely_ trust you – _**no**_."

Not being able to help laughing at the display, even if at her own expense, Ashley settled on giving him the finger.

The commander smirked, her action attractive in her own tough way. "Again? Let's pace ourselves, soldier." Sighing from her small look of dissatisfaction from not being able to win their little game, he began to trace the outline of her face. "We've got a pretty good thing going here, Ash. It's pretty unstable and definitely not normal in any sense of the word, but I want to keep it." A pause. "Saying what I feel without thinking might…complicate things."

Hearing the regret in his statement, she easily let it go before nodding in agreement, understanding exactly what he meant: some things were too good in life to risk jinxing and the two had found one of them.

"Well, I hate to be the one to break this to you, Skipper, but I'm not seeing "normal" anywhere in your immediate future." Ashley joked, switching gears as she began dragging the pads of her own fingers against his finely trimmed stubble, wanting once more to feel the gratifying friction of it against her skin.

"You're right…Which would be good since that means you'll be in it." He grinned. "You're anything but."

"Exactly." The woman answered, pleased with his response as she suddenly faced him; sitting on his lap now, she straddled his waist to bring their bodies closer. "Normal is overrated."

"And talk is cheap – let's see you prove it." Shepard challenged huskily, grabbing her face and capturing her lips fervently, not at all surprised by the passionate return given on her side.

Reluctantly leaving the feel of his lips pressed hard against her own, the woman broke the connection to breathe, deeply enjoying the lustful expression on her superior's face as she was sure it mirrored her own; the woman pinned his immaculate body down to the mattress beneath them soon afterwards, knowing that it was only a matter of time before he would attempt to take control – **_if_** she would let him.

"_Ready and willing, sir_ – _try to keep up_…." Ashley finally breathed in his ear before giving a rough tug on its lobe with a certain smile, heading down to ravage his lips again as both their moans filled the graciously soundproofed room.


	2. Poetry

Wow; this update was fast! Haven't done those in a while! I blame ME for such an awesome romance!

Anyway, disclaimer alert!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the poems used in this chapter, each one belongs to their respective owners: Hughes, Tennyson, Whitman, Sexton, and Neruda. (full info on the poems, if you want to check em out, at the bottom)

Now that that's out of the way, this one takes place before Ilos when you really wanted a conversation, but you hadn't completed a main mission. ;D

* * *

Elias Shepard couldn't help the lopsided grin now plastered on his face.

Rolling her eyes from the exceptionally irksome, yet ridiculously irresistible feature, Ashley Williams scoffed from what she knew was inevitable. "Shut-up."

"What?" The commander asked innocently, trying his best to rid himself of the telling expression while the two stood in their usual spots next to her weapons table down in engineering. "I happen to be a bit of a poetry buff too – though, seeing you all cute and passionate when you recite _is_ icing on the cake."

"You do know that I have to kill you now?" She tsked before picking up a harmless pistol from the arrangement of guns she was currently inspecting, the safety still on as she aimed it at him. "And we were getting along so well…Any last words?"

He laughed as he lifted both hands in mock surrender. "So violent. I think it's a cry for attention, really…"

"Oh?" Williams questioned back, a brow rising. "Trust me, Shepard: if I wanted your attention, I could use a _much_ better tactic then this."

Catching yet another subtle flirtation the woman in front of him had mastered during their conversations, Shepard studied her. "What tactic would that be, soldier?"

"One that never fails…_sir_." Her last utterance effortlessly transitioned into a hushed and seductive tone, a maddening smile on her lips that seemed to dare him to action.

How the Gunnery Chief managed to flaunt her innate sexuality so capably without gaining unwanted attention from the rest of the crew was beyond the commander's mental comprehension – if there was any woman in the galaxy who knew exactly how to set him on fire, it was surely her.

"You're cheating, Ash."

A warning; he had already surveyed his surroundings before walking up to start a conversation, managing to catch her at a time when the two were practically alone. Wrex was never one to stay in one place for too long and was no doubt wandering the ship while Garrus was fully preoccupied, as usual, with making repairs for the Mako.

She smiled knowingly, her entire body humming pleasantly from the risky game they played. "I'm winning, Skipper…_Try harder_."

Eyes temporarily combating, the commander pushed out an amused exhale while an entertained grin tugged his lips before it completely disappeared: he would not take her bait.

"What you recited for me before was nice: still Tennyson?"

Showing only the barest trace of discontent from his obvious subject change, Ashley nodded. "Yeah; still "Ulysses" in all its glory. It's funny, I actually memorized it for my Dad's birthday when I was still a kid, thinking it would be a one time thing. Seems I completely bashed my poetry speaking skills." She chuckled. "After that first time, he wanted the same experience every year – that's why he had so many recordings."

"He loved the gesture. I'm sure that it probably got him through some lonely nights when he was out on deployment, hearing his little girl reading his favorite poem."

"You're probably right: Dad loved space, loved what it represented for humanity. He was fascinated by the possibility of the unknown and had enough determination to discover as much as he could while he could." Her eyes closed, the poem's words once again coming to her head. "'How dull it is to pause, to make an end, to rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use. As tho' to breathe were life; life piled on life were all too little, and of one to me, little remains; but every hour is saved'."

Smiling at the small peek she gave of a softer, more intimate side, Shepard gave a few soft claps. "You know, I never was a big Tennyson fan, but with the way you recite it;" His expression grew, "I might just convert."

"I bet you say that to all the girls…But yeah, Tennyson's somewhat of an 'acquired' taste – though after reading one of his poems a dozen times over, you do tend to gain an appreciation." Her brow lifted curiously. "So, were you telling the truth that you were a poetry buff or just trying to impress me?"

"Both." He answered with a roguish grin before becoming serious. "Honestly, there are some pieces of good literature out there that have really made an impact on me: words can be an amazing thing if one knows how to use them."

Waiting expectantly for him to continue, she scoffed and revolved her hand in a 'hurry-up' motion. "…_And_? You've got me on the edge of my seat here, Skipper…Well…figuratively anyway."

Chuckling from her enthusiasm to know more, the man's eyes looked away from her own momentarily before darting back with a reverent solemnity. "'I will take your heart. I will take your soul out of your body as though I were God. I will not be satisfied with the touch of your hand, nor the sweet of your lips alone. I will take your heart for mine. I will take your soul. I will be God when it comes to you.'"

Watching the woman in front of him unblinkingly, his ears captured the faint shakiness of her new breath from his sudden performance; her brown orbs searched his amber ones almost tentatively, her face noticeably astonished with a hint of something more…forbidden.

"Wow, Shepard…" Ashley cleared her throat lightly, blinking away the transfixed connection between their eyes, "I guess you weren't lying…Um, who was that?"

A chuckle found its way past his lips: something about seeing her briefly stunned, when she was usually so unfazed by those sorts of things, was incredibly endearing. "Langston Hughes – a great in all respects. I've read most of his work; though that's actually one his lesser known poems: "To Artina"."

"It's so personal; _very_ romantic…You know: if that's what you're in to." She hurriedly added in an attempt to save face, still trying to shake the feeling that had once more developed within from his presence. A mixture of fascination and marvel...

"Would it surprise you if I told you that I am? I enjoy the thought of romance; the concept of love, in itself, is a remarkable one." He confessed before smirking. "And deny it all you want, Williams, but I think past all that independence and willfulness-"

"Is even more stubbornness?"

"A fellow romantic." The man stated, shaking his head from her playful guess.

Her smile was the epitome of an unsolved mystery, her teasing tone the essence of tormenting wit. "I'll never tell, Shepard."

"Then I'll have to force it out of you."

"You'll _try_." She corrected.

He exhaled as his desire spiked; it was taking every ounce of self-control to not just grab her and have his way. "'They are not one jot less then I am, they are tann'd in the face by shinning suns and blowing winds; their flesh has the old divine suppleness and strength: they know how to swim, row, ride, wrestle, shoot, run, strike, retreat, advance, resist; defend themselves. They are ultimate in their own right – they are calm, clear, well-possess'd of themselves'."

The Chief awarded him with a commending gaze. "My, my; Skipper – aren't you pulling out the big guns? That sounded like Whitman."

"Impressive – you a fan?"

"My Dad was: another one of his favorites." She smiled. "The two of you would have gotten along: you're both fans of all those sappy poets."

Elias scoffed, feigning offence. "Sappy"? That's a bit harsh…" He eyed her inquiringly, "Did you want something raunchier – something a bit less sentimental?"

Her smile was now a smirk, intrigued by the challenge in his voice. "Now, that sounds interesting."

Taking a quick look over his shoulder to see that their turian shipmate was still engrossed with the large rover, Shepard fearlessly eliminated the space between their bodies, head lowering so that his lips hovered near her ear.

"'I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair; silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps'." Hearing her breath hitch from his sudden proximity, warm breath on skin, the man did not need to see her face to know she was turned on by his bravado. "'I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body, the sovereign nose of your arrogant face; I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes, and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight; hunting for you, for your hot heart'." Backing away from her as soon as he finished his little show, Shepard pretended to be unfazed by the yearning that burned in her dusky orbs. "That was Pablo Neruda – great guy for imagery and he-"

Before he could finish, Ashley had her fingers pressed to his lips, unneeded digits for the task exploring the gratifying feel of its firm flesh, every slight ridge and curve that her own lips could not determine. "'My nerves are turned on. I hear them like musical instruments. Where there was silence, the drums, the strings are incurably playing. You did this; pure genius at work. Darling, the composer has stepped into fire'." She slowly dragged her fingertip against the outline of his bottom lip, her nerves magnificently thrilled by simple touch.

"Sexton?" Trapping her hand in his larger one as her actions were proving to be too much for the over sensitized area to handle, he gave a small peck to her fingers before removing them and placing them back to her side. "Must be one hell of a show."

"Oh, you have _no _idea…Or maybe you do: I'm not the "composer" here."

Elias grinned from that indomitable confidence. "I was on fire long before this; using other's words to say what a person can't is pretty illuminating – a nice way around regs at any rate…."

Sighing, she knew that meant that their time was now up for now, and even more disappointing; she would once more have to find another way to relieve herself of the sexual frustration he created: she didn't know whether to punch him or kiss him…or a combination of the two.

"Who's cheating now, Shepard?"

"Winning, Ash." The commander replied shrewdly before departing and heading toward what was sure to be the longest elevator ride yet – the sluggish mechanism having little to do with his self-inflicted agony. "Winning."

* * *

Okep, in order:

1. Alfred Tennyson's _Ulysses_, 2. Langston Hughes's _To Artina_, 3. Walt Whitman's _A Woman Waits For Me_, 4. Pablo Neruda's _I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair_, and 5. Anne Sexton's _The Kiss_.


End file.
